


"What Do You Want?"

by sunhatmike



Series: Destiel Oneshots [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-10 21:37:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20535002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunhatmike/pseuds/sunhatmike
Summary: Castiel decides to find D-... Michael himself. It goes... badly.





	"What Do You Want?"

**Author's Note:**

> hiiiiii!! apparently I never posted this, even though it's from almost a year ago. Wrote it within the first two episodes of season 14 :P oh well, hope you all enjoy!

He curled his clammy hands into fists, trying to squeeze out the uneasy tingling that was plaguing his fingers. It only moved to his toes and knees, giving the same feeling of pins and needles that was weighing him down. All the while his lungs burned like someone had lit an entire matchbox and forced him to swallow it. Castiel didn’t feel like this very often, but he never had trouble placing the cause.

A hundred footsteps echoed through the alley. The feet of druggies and drunks rushing to whatever part of the ally they were planning to meet their dealer, young women who’d stayed at work late and needed to take a shortcut home, homeless people of all ages looking frantically for shelter ran around and created a thunderstorm of sounds. It was a busy alley, but none of the steps were from him. None of them made his chest burn any hotter. Castiel stayed up against a wall beside a dumpster to blend in with the crowd. It would do him no good, but any sense of calm he could get before the storm hit he would take.

All at once, the thunderstorm of footsteps disappeared. Castiel looked up from the ground as all the druggies and late workers ran away, mid deal or catcall. As they all turned corners and were out of sight and earshot, only one set of footsteps remained, shocking like lightnight, another match catching fire with each step closer. He must have been wearing boots or dress shoes. His steps rang out in the dark alley, the sharp echoes piercing Castiel’s ears.

And then they stopped.

“Castiel?” The voice said, the knowing tone bouncing off the walls of the warehouses around them, the teasing tone slicing through the cold air. It sent a chill down Castiel’s spine. The voice was so familiar, but still so distant from what he was used to. It landed right in the uncanny valley. He stepped out from behind the dumpster, keeping his face blank. It would do as much good as his hiding spot to keep a poker face, but he told himself the same thing as before-  _ calm before the storm _ . Castiel’s stomach churned when he got good sight of him, the way his eyes shined with a malicious light in the dark, the way he tilted his head with a smirk.

“Ah, there you are.” The evil grin spread a little farther.

“Michael.” Cas said flatly. He wished Sam was there, he wished he hadn’t arranged this meeting in secret, he wished he had stopped Dean from saying yes, and he wished he could start all over again. But there was no going back now. He had no reason to keep playing all of his mistakes back in his mind for any reason other than a pity party, and there was no time for that. Not now. Cas had more urgent tasks at hand.

“I see you came alone.” the archangel looked around, all with that same damn smile on his face, as if he was pretending that Castiel had had a choice. Michael would have known in an instant if someone else had tagged along, and Castiel didn’t need another repeat of his last failed attempt at getting information. The cut on his cheek stung a bit at the memory. As if he could read his mind, Michael looked back at Castiel with mock pity. “You look a little beaten up, are you alright?”

“You know what happened.”

“You’re an angel. You can heal yourself.” Michael took a quick glance at the still unhealed wounds on his face. Cas hadn’t bothered do anything other than wash his clothes. There wasn’t much he could have done anyway. The smile on Michael’s face grew a bit. They both knew why Castiel was still in such rough shape. “You can’t heal yourself.”

Cas stayed silent.

“You feel it too, hmm?” Michael droned. He began walking around Cas. “Heaven is weakened here. Not enough angels left to keep it running, and now your grace is suffering because of it. Weakened. If you want to keep your other abilities, healing is out of the picture.” The archangel paused directly behind Castiel. He could feel Michael’s eyes on his back. Michael chuckled softly. “Looks like your wings are gone, too. Shame. You always had suck lovely black wings.” He started walking again. “We had to cut them off in my universe. Looks like something similar happened here. Holy flame thrower?”

“You’re stalling.” Castiel said. No expression was to be found in his voice. Still, he could feel his wings aching. Or, what was left of them. 

“All in due time, Castiel, all in due time.” Michael had circled back around, though he stood closer to Castiel this time. Cas’s mind went back to all the times he stood this close to Dean. He could always rely on the gentle rise and fall of Dean’s chest, or the soft echo of his heartbeat. But this wasn’t Dean. This was a shadow of him. A twisted imitation. Michael knew about it, just like he did with everything. He was standing close just to mock Cas. And holy shit, it was working. “With Heaven down, angels few and far between and you… well, in the shape you’re in… I think it’s easy to assume that this world is a scar away from falling apart. But of course, you’re the expert here, so you tell me. Do you agree?”  
Castiel didn’t say a word.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Michael smirked. “And that’s what I’m trying to fix. I don’t want to watch this world fall apart like my own. I’ll admit, I made a... few mistakes there.”

“To say the least.” Cas spat.

“But I’m trying to ensure the same does not happen here,” he continued as if Castiel hadn’t said a word. “To ensure that I create a better world.  _ That _ is what I want.”

“Is that what you’ve been going around the country doing? Recruiting monsters to help you destroy this world like you did your own?”

Michael snickered. “That’s one way to put it.” He turned to face Castiel. “See they’re different from angels. Angels… they’re built to follow. Then, of course, there are those like you. You were always defective.” He spat it out, like the idea of an angel having free will was despicable; worthy of contempt. It was, Castiel was a heathen in every regard.

“Monsters, however? They’re unlike any angel, even disgraced like you. They don’t follow because that’s how they’re programmed. They follow to get what they want. Want is entirely stemming from free will. A vampire, for example, his wants are simple and pure. Brutal maybe, but pure. Food. Blood. Protection from hunters like…” Michael gestured to… well, not himself. “And I can offer them that. I can give them what they want.

“It’s all about want Castiel. Someone’s deepest desires. Their basic, fundamental needs.” Michael continued. “That’s what I’ve been going around asking. Humans, monsters, the few angels I could find. And if I find their answers to be untruthful, well,” he snapped. It was like looking at Lucifer. Evil minds think alike. “And so now I’ve come to you Castiel. What do you want?”

Castiel knew the question would be asked as soon as Michael started his spiel about wants and desires. He knew, as well, Michael didn’t need a verbal answer. This was an archangel, for fucks sake. Michael knew damn well the answer. He just wanted to hear it outloud, to be able to gloat in his own sense of self-righteousness and omniscience.

_ He can’t know if you don’t think about it _ . Castiel stayed silent as he tried to suppress everything he’d ever longed for. It wasn’t a long list. In its place he pulled up minor things he’d always thought would be nice. Another illusion that was fooling only him.

A sunflower garden, surrounded by willow, with a small pond in the middle.

_ Don’t do it _ .

A beehive in the garden, hanging from a tree, always buzzing with life.

_ Don’t think of even his name _ .

A nice pair of rain boots. Angels get soaked too.

_ You’ll fuck everyone over _ .

A quiet lakeside cabin, like the one he rented when helping Kelly at the end of her pregnancy. It had been so peaceful there, away from the constant bustling and stress of living with hunters.

Not that he wouldn’t have minded living there with Dean-  _ shit _ .

“Stop trying to push it down, you know it won’t work.” Michael said with a clear tone of annoyance. He flicked his wrist and suddenly Castiel was sent flying. He hit the hard, backbreaking brick wall of a warehouse, banging a dumpster on his fall down. He landed hard. Cas thought he could see birds flying around his head.

Michael walked over slowly. He towered above Castiel, who was still recovering from his fall. Damn his low grace. Of all times…

“You’re only making this harder on yourself, Castiel.” He hated the way his own name sounded coming out of Michael’s mouth. It wasn’t right. He wanted to hear it the way it was supposed to be said. On pure impulse, Castiel grabbed his blade and tried shoving himself towards Michael. Michael merely scoffed, kicking Cas right down. He lost grip of his blade and it went scattering, the clanking fading as it fell down the slight slope of the alley. “Bullshit. You know you would never try to hurt me. Not with this face.”

If only he wasn’t right.

Michael crouched down so he was eye-level with Cas, slumped up against the wall and wiping away the blood from the cuts Michael had reopened. He smirked.

“I know what he wanted.” Michael teased. He pointed to his head. “As soon as he said that word I had full access to everything. All his memories, traumas- there are a lot of those, even I was almost overwhelmed, and of course, the list of all those he’d ever loved. But there was the one that stood out the most, even amongst years of toxic brotherly codependency, and meaningless sex, there was that one name.”

Michael grabbed Castiel, squeezing his cheeks, making a little more blood hush out. He stared right into Cas’s eyes- the green that was usually there had been drained out. They weren’t the color of the drapes of a forest in spring, their emerald shine was completely absent. They were grey and desaturated. No sign of life. No sign of Dean.

“You know who it was?”

An evil smile spread across his face. The cuts on Cas’ face stung but he could barely feel them over the rush of dread he felt. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to hear Michael’s next few words over the pounding of his own heart.

Still, hopeful thoughts couldn’t help themselves from creeping into his mind. It wasn’t one sided. He wasn’t in love for nothing. Dean- he’d loved him back this whole time.

Michael started laughing. Hysterically. He never loosened his grip.

“God, you’re pathetic.” He said when he calmed down. The smile, though, did not fade.

He let go of Castiel harshly and stood, leaving the other angel on his hands and knees, wondering what Michael meant. Was he just prolonging this for his own amusement? Why couldn’t he just spit it out already.

“So hopeful for nothing.” Michael kicked Cas. He spoke casually, almost lazily, yet his kick was enough to send Cas to the ground. It wasn’t followed by another, but Cas didn’t try to get up.

Then Michael whispered. So quiet Cas could only hope he was mishearing. He knew he wasn’t.

“It wasn’t you.”


End file.
